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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279307">The Last Bell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/keir/pseuds/keir'>keir</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaevaBelle/pseuds/NaevaBelle'>NaevaBelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Ritual Sex, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:28:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/keir/pseuds/keir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaevaBelle/pseuds/NaevaBelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt is far from overjoyed that the summer solstice has come again, a day filled with revelry and a night consisting of debauchery. To most it's an irreverent celebration, but to Geralt it means watching Jaskier take part. The witcher has no plans to join in the bawdy festivities even with the bard's overtures, but sometimes the best laid plans go awry.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>618</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Last Bell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I couldn't have written this without Naevabelle, for real, she kept me going and helped drum up and shape so many ideas, and for that I am eternally grateful. 💛</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If this was the last time Geralt had to hear the sound of solstice bells again, he could die happy, or at least in peace. The constant jingling from all corners of the tavern and the streets beyond had been going on the entire day, a maddening cacophony to his sensitive ears. Paired with the insipid chatter of the festival paticipants, it led to his less than stellar mood. His eyes flicked to the door, left standing open to accommodate the day-long steady stream of patrons and to let what little gasps of fresh air into the stinking building. Sunset was drawing near and though it would bring some relief, he knew certain other problems would arise. He grimaced into his tankard, willing his self-pitying thoughts to drown in it.</p><p>"Pouting, Geralt? How very uncharacteristic of you!"</p><p>The witcher barely turned his head to acknowledge the newcomer to the bar. Jaskier was grinning, his smile sloppy; clearly he'd had more than his share of summerwine in the couple hours since Geralt had last seen him. The bard had grown bored of strumming and pandering to the crowd within the tavern and had ventured to the streets to try his luck there, which had suited Geralt just fine.</p><p>Jaskier hailed the bartender, leaning over the well-worn slab of wood farther than necessary. "Another summerwine for me, if you please, and another tankard of that piss you call ale for my friend here!" The bartender scowled but after he glanced at the witcher, he took the coin Jaskier slid him without a word.</p><p>"It seems you had good fortune," Geralt said, giving a brief nod as his ale was served him.</p><p>"The goddess smiles upon me," Jaskier said. He grabbed at the front of his festival garb, a garish knee-length yellow skirt with slits in the sides--and no ordinary, plain skirt as was custom either, this one true to Jaskier's fashion with decadent quilting and golden threading throughout--the motion almost vulgar. Geralt could hear the scrape of coins rubbing together in the pouch hidden beneath. His eyes traveled up the bare expanse of his companion's torso, lingering momentarily on the other man's nipples before meeting his eyes. "She could smile on you tonight too, you know," Jaskier said, voice smooth, a soft lilt in it.</p><p>Geralt grunted and turned back to his ale, taking several gulps as the lightly lisped words tunneled into his ear, echoing in his head. Maybe there was an invitation there. Maybe... But he preferred to chalk it up to the wine Jaskier had no doubt been guzzling all day as he traipsed about the city, plying his trade. There had surely been enough ears to listen, enough thoroughly-sotted fools, whether drunk on wine or love, to toss their hard-earned coins the bard's way. The city was one big party, ribbons festooning the streets, people milling about enough that not even a single man on horseback could make his way through the crowd with any semblance of ease. The usual city hustle and bustle, the haste of the commonfolk to scrabble to make a living, had gone out the window for this one day. Usually Geralt made a point to avoid cities altogether during the festival, or at least the larger ones, but this year had been different.</p><p>This year he was traveling with Jaskier, or rather Jaskier had been hounding his footsteps in search of material for his next great epic. Geralt had tried to steer them clear, but the bard had bawled and balked like a donkey, decrying hiding away from one of the most exciting events of the year. Geralt told himself he was only trying to protect his friend from himself by avoiding the larger festivals, Jaskier not being one to make the smartest of choices, but a little voice niggled inside at him, constantly whispering that it knew where Geralt's true intentions lay.</p><p>The witcher glanced over and caught the bard staring at him. "What?" he asked tersely.</p><p>"Just trying to imagine you in the running," Jaskier said. He seemed to hesitate, then busied himself with swirling the wine in his glass, intently studying the deep yellow liquid. It arced higher and higher inside its confines until it was nearly over the rim. Geralt reached out a hand and firmly grasped the cup to prevent the wine from spilling over, his fingers overlapping Jaskier's.</p><p>Their eyes met, and Geralt studied the high flush on Jaskier's cheeks. "What of it?"</p><p>"Who will be the lucky one to be bedded by the infamous witcher?" Jaskier asked, voice almost tremulous. The apple of his throat bobbed. "Who will get a taste of the forbidden fruit?" he added with haste, throwing in a lopsided smile. </p><p>Geralt realized his hand was still touching Jaskier's; he pulled away, skin dragging over skin, and he told himself it was just the wine that put the little hitch in the bard's breath. "I will bed no one." He affixed his hands to the circumference of his ale tankard and commanded them not to stray again.</p><p>"Oh, come now. Surely someone has taken your fancy?" Jaskier asked airily, but his eyes held some kind of expectation. It was Jaskier's look of needing to KNOW, and the witcher had grown quite accustomed to it.</p><p>"I have duties." Geralt, in attempting to spare himself the pain of watching his companion participate in the festivities, had agreed to provide extra help to the overburdened guardsmen as soon as he had been approached by the mayor, who had arrowed for him straight away upon learning of his presence in the city. Tensions always ran high during the solstice festival and fights continually needed to be stamped out. It was a far cry from monster hunting, but Geralt needed something other than lying awake in his room, listening to the chiming of the infernal bells.</p><p>"Ah, yes; the ever-dutiful witcher." Jaskier was quiet a moment, shifting uneasily before he took a swift gulp of his summerwine. "I could get you a bell, if you like," he said, chin jutting toward the witcher's conspicuously empty belt. "Surely your duties won't detain you all night?"</p><p>Geralt grunted. He had no need for one of the little coveted baubles. They were crafted for the occasion and sold by the dozens, the real coin at the heart of the festival. Any alpha wishing to participate had to carry at least one, for any omega they wished to mate during the running would demand it as recompense for their charms. There were variations in the metal used--iron was most common, gold the most desired--and the styles varied by region, some even boasting intricate carvings to their bells or precious stones. The witcher's eyes flicked toward the bard's ankle. His lip quirked on one side at the sight of multiple bits of lacing twined there, dozens of bells dangling from them in different styles, even bits of gold sparkling amongst the hoard. "I think you have enough bells for the whole city, Jaskier."</p><p>He regretted the words as soon as they passed his lips; he had meant them in jest, but his tone sounded like scorn, even to his own ears. The pernicious voice in his head was souring his words. Jaskier drew himself straighter, puffing himself up indignantly as he always did when his pride was wounded. "I happen to be very in demand during the running, I'll have you know. Plenty of alphas have fought over the pleasure of my company, and here I am, a fool giving it to you for free." Jaskier stammered to a halt, looking away before downing the last of his wine. "Don't wait up for me, Geralt. You see, it so happens I won't be back till morning as I'll be too busy earning my whole city of bells." The last was a hiss, the witcher's words thrown back at him with fervor.</p><p>Geralt kept his gaze forward as Jaskier moved away and out the door of the tavern. His fingers stroked the side of his tankard as he contemplated all the bells wound about the bard's ankle, the idea of them winding him up tighter and tighter. He had never doubted Jaskier would be in demand; he was perhaps too aware of it, intensely so. All the more reason he wanted to avoid this wretched city and its gaudy pageantry. </p><p>"Snippy little thing as always, isn't he?" Yennefer mused.</p><p>The words snapped him from his contemplation and he realized he was throttling the tankard, his jaw aching from being clenched. His eyes slid to the interloper and she tsked him. "Such a look for an old friend." Yennefer perched herself on the seat next to him, ordering up a drink. She sipped at the summerwine and grimaced, picking a stray dandelion petal from her tongue. "The years never make this swill any better, do they?"</p><p>"What brings you here?" Geralt asked. He was in no mood for idle chatter. </p><p>"Passing through." Yennefer took another dainty sip. "But I may have heard you were in the vicinity." She offered him a smile with a quirked brow. "And with Jaskier, no less."</p><p>"It's not like that." Geralt regretted letting the omission past his lips, wishing he hadn't felt compelled to even speak on the matter. He drank more ale to silence his wagging tongue and grimaced as she eyed him with a bemused look.</p><p>"He is rather happy about his little trophies." Yennefer leaned back in her seat, the aged wood creaking. "I think he'd be even more happy with one from you."</p><p>Geralt stared at the purple eyes which danced with merriment while they watched him over the rim of their owner's glass and said nothing.</p><p>"Shy, Geralt?" Yennefer teased. "The aphrodisiac will help with that. It's quite potent this year, I heard."</p><p>"That's why you're here?" Geralt pressed his lips together in disapproval at her sly tone. </p><p>"I go where my services are needed." Yennefer shifted her hair over her shoulder, unconcerned with his feelings on the matter. "I was asked to make sure it would be a solstice to remember, and I did my part. I don't need your approval, Geralt," she said and finished her summerwine. Geralt grunted but said no more on the matter, but Yennefer was not quite done with their other topic of discussion. She leaned in closer, full lips murmuring words dripping with lasciviousness. "Why not take the drink? See where it takes you tonight?"</p><p>Geralt looked around the room, squinting in the dimming light at those still bothering to gather inside the hot confines of the tavern though sunset drew near. "Not likely," he said shortly.</p><p>"Not with any of them," Yennefer said, turning up her nose in distaste. "Please, Geralt; even you can't be so dense as to my meaning."</p><p>It was Geralt's turn to give her a bemused look. "I find it best not to mix business with pleasure."</p><p>"Then how will you find any pleasure at all seeing as all you ever think of is business?" She stood and looked at him expectantly. "Well? You can see me out."</p><p>Geralt looked skyward, asking for a blessing of patience before he stood. Yennefer looped her arm around his and people parted for them to make their way outside, where Geralt took in a deep breath of fresh air; he hadn't realized how much it smelled of sweat and drink and other odors confined inside the tavern. The noise had been dulled by the walls, but out in the streets it was a clamor. People were talking and dancing, drinking and eating, the city alive and heaving like a beast. Yennefer led him down the crowded street, and Geralt knew where she was taking him. She must have felt him tense as she said, "Come now; I should be able to enjoy seeing the results of my work." Geralt scowled, and the look made sure the partiers made way for them to pass.</p><p>The open square at the edge of the city was teeming, everyone abuzz as sunset approached. There were four squares on the outskirts of town to accommodate all the participants and keep them from crowding too deeply. Geralt's eyes scanned the swarming participants, omegas and alphas of age, looking for one in particular, trying to ignore Yennefer's smirk.</p><p>There was a press all about them when the aphrodisiac was handed out, people grabbing for it as if it were the elixir of life, drinking deep. Geralt could smell it, sharp and spicy. "How strong did you make it?" he demanded of the sorceress, who simply shrugged a shoulder, not meeting his eyes. She was more interested now in watching the scene unfold than in his personal drama.</p><p>"Geralt. Good to see you here with us common folk." Jaskier emerged from the crowd, clearly far gone on summerwine now. Geralt wanted to chastise him, but he held his tongue; it had got him in enough trouble for one day. "Yennefer." Jaskier bowed coolly to her, more a mockery than a salutation, and raised his cup in a maudlin salute to the witcher. </p><p>"Jaskier, don't drink it," Geralt warned sharply. The bard made a face and downed his drink, eyes never leaving the other man's. Geralt held himself back  just barely, the sinews in his neck straining as he tensed up. Yennefer's gaze was locked on the capricious bard like a hawk with a sparrow in its talons, avid in her study of him.</p><p>Jaskier took the cup from his lips and let it fall to the ground. A droplet of the liquid rolled down his chin and over his throat, and Geralt's eyes followed it. Jaskier laughed breathily, eyes going cloudy as if he was entering a trance, ensnared by the aphrodisiac as it raced through him. He ran a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth as its claws took hold. All around them the other participants were beginning to feel it, a clamoring buzz of excitement filling the square, rising like a frenzy all too quickly. Yennefer and Geralt watched, both transfixed as Jaskier seemed to soften before them, eyes hooded and breath heavy. He looked to Geralt as if to say something as the spicy scent of aphrodisiac mixed with the sweet of the summerwine in the air. </p><p>The horn in the tower sounded, the call taken up around the city by lesser instrumental voices in a shrill shriek. It was as if the floodgates opened, a frenzy taken up as if omegas were being washed out to sea on a feverish wave as they fled the city in a clangor of shivering bells so intense it made Geralt want to cover his ears.</p><p>All but one omega. Jaskier approached them, limbs trembling, and Geralt warned himself not to touch even though his body begged. Each step brought the jingling of bells, iron on silver on gold, a sound just Jaskier's, only Jaskier's, as unique as the man who wore them. The bard stared up at the witcher, eyes dreamy as if fixed on something far away. He reached up, missing his mark at first as his fingers brushed over Geralt's collarbone. He corrected his course, hand coming to the other man's cheek. Geralt stared at where wet lips were parted, the sharp tang of the aphrodisiac wafting from Jaskier's mouth. The bard smirked and pat the witcher. "Be a good boy while I'm away, won't you? Don't go getting into fights; I won't be there to save you."</p><p>Geralt grunted at that, and Jaskier arched, biting his lip. It took every shred of self control the witcher possessed to not grab hold, to not take right there, but as soon as it happened, it was over. Jaskier slipped away, callused fingers falling from Geralt's cheek as he joined the last stragglers running off into the wild. "Fuck," Geralt murmured viciously.</p><p>"Why not take the aphrodisiac, Geralt?"</p><p>The witcher turned his brooding gaze on Yennefer then looked away. "Magic doesn't work on me."</p><p>"My additive, no. But you were human once. You're still flesh and blood." Her hand on his arm was light. "Thr aphrodisiac might still serve to take your troubles away."</p><p>Geralt stared into the distance, removed from his contemplation only by the second calling of the tower horn. The alphas were released, following in a second crushing wave, bells ajangle as they were given to the hunt. One of them would find Jaskier out there...</p><p>"It's only sex," Yennefer said.</p><p>If only it were simply that, Geralt thought. He turned away from the spectacle, trying to put Jaskier from his mind. "I have duties."</p><p>"A last drink with me, then." Yennefer seized his arm, fingers digging in. She stared up at him boldly, as unyielding as a mountain. "For old time's sake. I depart in the morning."</p><p>Geralt paused then nodded. Free of the throngs of people but for the too young, too old, or the few remaining of age who chose not to participate, the square felt barren. Yennefer brought him to a street vendor, and while he stared off into the vast fields and forests where Jaskier no doubt roamed at that very moment, had perhaps even been caught by now, she exchanged coin for two ales, lifting hers in a toast. "To Jaskier. May he get what he wishes tonight."</p><p>Geralt grimaced then threw his drink back, not stopping until he had emptied it, willing it to wash away the bitter jealousy roiling in his guts. It was only when he saw Yennefer's eyes, the deep purple of them staring at him over her cup again, that he realized his error. The feeling inside grew, expanding until he could feel its rush throughout his body, his heart thundering as he began to salivate. "What have you done?" he demanded.</p><p>"I've only taken the leash off," she said. Her soft lips curved as she tilted Geralt's head up; he hadn't realized he had even bent over. The sorceress's eyes glowed like violet embers. "Now go to him before another catches him."</p><p>The witcher stumbled backward, panting as a raging need rose up, a terrifying beast with burning eyes and a deep hunger that needed to be sated, that could only be sated by one thing.</p><p>Jaskier.</p><p>---</p><p>Jaskier was angry. He was despondent. And then he was angry again.</p><p>This was his time. He always looked forward to the solstice running, to the freedom, the fun, the debauchery. He loved the crowds, the food, the drink, and ultimately the sex. Now that his star was ascending, he was popular. He no longer had to take scraps off the floor of some tawdry, nowhere inn; now cities begged him to come and play, to stir the people to passion and excess--and to spending--and in the end he always got more than coins as a reward.</p><p>Yet now the mood had soured and the sweet taste had dried up on his tongue. Damn Geralt. Damn him for coming--they could have parted ways before the solstice!--and damn him for not even being able to read a subtle hint. Jaskier felt more the fool for that. Of course Yennefer would also show at a time like this, as seductive as ever. No doubt Geralt would take her up on her charms again.</p><p>Jaskier rested his head back against a tree trunk with a sigh. It was his time and yet all the joy had been bled from him like a water bladder sprung a leak. He had flirted with a few alphas, enjoyed the initial chase; the breeze as he ran was always exhilarating. He had allowed two to catch him; the first bell offering had been rebuffed, and the second... Jaskier had been charmed enough by the strapping lad who was perhaps barely out of his teens. Jaskier wasn't getting any younger, pushing into the latter half of his thirties now, and the attention from a bold young suitor hadn't been unwelcome. It was the width of the broad shoulders that got him. The alpha had the strong scent of wood about him, no doubt some sort of lumberjack, and Jaskier fancied a romp with him.</p><p>Jaskier had let himself be caught, laughing breathlessly as the alpha pressed against him, cock at the ready. Jaskier had to remind him to present his bell, though it was a formality by that point. He had been perfectly content snogging for a bit, which made the alpha impatient, but Jaskier had a few tricks up his sleeve to keep the other man content enough. </p><p>But what had drawn Jaskier to accepting the alpha had also been what started the encounter's downfall. As he clung to the broad shoulders, he realized they were almost too broad, and the muscles weren't quite right; they weren't the muscles of a man who swung a sword. There was also the matter of facial hair, or lack of. The alpha was smooth, barely more than a wisp to be spoken of, even on his chest. And that made Jaskier realize that there wasn't a giant crescent-shaped scar below  the right nipple and it had all fallen apart from there. Jaskier had lost the mood and waved the alpha off. The man didn't seem to understand, thinking it was another flirtatious tactic, and it devolved into a fight. Jaskier was not proud that he had flung the alpha's bell into the woods--it was his only one, after all--but he was feeling irritated with himself and the whole situation, and at least it had made the poor sod leave to try to find it.</p><p>The aphrodisiac had been strong, stronger than any brewings Jaskier could remember before, but still his interest was flagging. He knew what his problem was, and yet still he couldn't shake it. With a huff he grabbed for the wine bladder hidden beneath his skirt. He had planned on saving it for later, but he was desperate to regain that delicious fervor and there was still time to salvage the night yet; the sky still had dark purple to it, the sun having barely disappeared. Jaskier uncorked the skin and brought it to his lips, chugging the overly sweet aphrodisiac until there was nothing left but a mildly acidic aftertaste.</p><p>It was mere moments before he questioned the wisdom of his decision. He burned and ached, the need between his legs almost torturous as he pressed a hand to it over his skirt. He staggered as he tried to take a step, falling back against the tree. The world swam as if he had emptied all of Queen Calanthe's wine cellar down his gullet. He lay his head back and took in short, harsh breaths. Perhaps he had overdone it this time, but the damage was done. He could hear echoes in the woods, shouts and moans and laughter and the susurrus of bells. He stumbled among the trees and brush, letting out a pitiful call, making sure his own bells rang in a tiny cacophony to entice an alpha to him.</p><p>He heard the crack of someone lumbering gracelessly through the woods and let out another chirp, waiting eagerly for the potential mate to find him. When the alpha emerged in the dark, Jaskier could SMELL him. His mouth fell open as he breathed in the potent stranger's scent, a visceral reaction running through him. He trembled, his bells tinkling softly with the movement, and the alpha zeroed in on him in the growing dark.</p><p>Jaskier's breath left him. The alpha had glowing eyes, glowing yellow eyes that reminded him of...</p><p>But that was impossible. Geralt wasn't in the running and people's eyes didn't just glow. Jaskier was hallucinating. Yes, clearly his mind was cobbling together what it could to deliver his fantasy, and who was Jaskier to deny himself this small pleasure? It was dark and he couldn't quite make out any true details, providing an easy way for him to shape the encounter to his liking. The alpha advanced on him and Jaskier shivered at the self-assured gait; he always did like an alpha who knew what they wanted. He waited like the sacrificial lamb until the alpha was in front of him, imposing and entirely too clothed in his shirt and breeches. Perhaps he was one of the shy ones, one of the first-timers who needed some coaxing.</p><p>The thought was tossed aside when the alpha grabbed hold of him, drawing him closer. The other man ducked his head, pressing his face against Jaskier's neck and very audibly dragged his scent in, hot breath cascading over the omega's naked collarbone. Jaskier moaned at the sensation, knees growing weak and his sex growing wet. The omega turned his head slightly, trying to get a better view of his suitor, not that he would be as picky as usual by this point, but long light-colored hair obscured the new challenger's face. It had been some time since Jaskier had bedded a blonde, he thought, the bells jingling again as he shifted closer, softly chiming as if purring to the potential mate. The alpha let out a ragged breath that ended in a snarl and Jaskier couldn't help another excited tremble as he arched into the other man's hard body.</p><p>"Run."</p><p>Jaskier startled at the command and the deep rasp of the other man's voice made his breath catch. Why would the alpha want that? Jaskier had to have been mistaken in what he heard. He had been caught already, and he was ready to be ravished now and he didn't think he could travel far as he was swaying like a drunkard. Yet despite that he usually possessed a clever tongue, it was all he could manage to say, "What?"</p><p>He stumbled as he was shoved away. The alpha bent over, hair hanging around his face like a shroud, and he was growling with every breath, but he made no move. Jaskier let out a shuddering breath at the sight; he swayed and took one step to catch his balance.</p><p>The jingling of the bells unleashed the beast.</p><p>"RUN!" the alpha shouted with a snarl. It was harsh and demanding and wonderful. Jaskier let out a shivering moan before another vicious snarl and the hint of glowing yellow eyes reminded him to take to the woods.</p><p>He turned and bolted.</p><p>---</p><p>Geralt barely remembered the crowded square or the ribbons festooning it trampled to the dirt or the slide of ale down his throat. He was wandering, wandering, perhaps even in circles. He couldn't grasp even the simplest of thoughts; they slipped away before he could understand. It was hot, so unbearably hot, and though he had tried to strip off his breeches to release the heat, his numb fingers couldn't seem to unlace them. His mouth hung open as he fumbled at the strings and then he heard it, the little thought that had persisted all day. It seemed a lifetime ago, but now it was whirling around and around, and then he grabbed for his only lifeline in the chaos: her words.</p><p>Go to him.</p><p>Yes, he had to find him. Find him before...</p><p>Before another catches him, came her echo. Geralt clung to the soft-spoken reminder, kindled it like a freezing man trying to bring his flame to a blaze. He stoked it with thoughts, thoughts of HIM, of a rakish smile and a constantly wagging tongue, of eyes of blue and a garish yellow skirt and a tempting bare thigh. More and more came and the beast fed on it until it was howling with rage at the thought of another touching his prize.</p><p>Jaskier. He had to find him; it was the only way to sate the beast that rode Geralt now. He staggered through the tall grass, floating high, feeling as if he were simply a passenger in his own body. The beast had taken over now, and it was his will to hunt. Geralt scented the wind with him; there were too many smells hanging there, left by the masses passing through, leaving the cloying scents of their eagerness to mate. They would have to rely on his other senses.</p><p>As if in a dream, he directed the beast. See, there? The tracks in the soft dirt were numerous, but Geralt knew the way their prey, their prize walked. They must find HIM.</p><p>Geralt forged ahead, mouth open and breathing heavy as he and the beast that rode him hunted. They crossed by many amorous pairs in various stages of passion, but none of them held his answer. Soon the tracks were too muddled, the trail obscured and defiled by too many others. They snarled in frustration until they heard it.</p><p>Bells. They weren't Jaskier's bells, far too quiet for that, but they were the answer, a siren's call from the forest. Geralt closed his eyes and listened, barely managing to silence the clamoring beast so he could hear past the laughter and the sounds of passion around him. He had never felt his own breathing so palpably as he did then, waiting in the growing darkness.</p><p>It came, eventually, a tiny shiver in the night, a multitude of metal voices calling to them. Geralt strained to hear more, but the beast took control, propelling him into the woods. Gracelessly they plunged through the bracken, headlong toward their prize as they listened to the bells. There was a bold call, a lilting ululation of an omega seeking a mate, and Geralt knew it was HIM.</p><p>The beast went mad, arrowing straight toward the sound. Geralt moved through the woods without care or grace, only concerned about one thing.</p><p>He stopped when they were close, barely able to control the beast that snarled and fought to go to HIM, to take HIM. The omega looked up, sensing a new presence, mouth falling open. Geralt tried to hold back, but he was dragged along by the hungering beast, step by torturous step, urged by the soft susurrus of the bells until they were close enough to touch, where Geralt gave in to one of his deepest desires. He bent his head, pressing his face close to Jaskier's neck, and inhaled deeply. His eyes rolled back as he dragged in the scent of the omega. He breathed in again, rumbling in his chest; he wanted to roll in it, to be marked in it, to--</p><p>He stopped, eyes snapping open as his lip drew back. There wasn't just the scent of the omega. He had thought Jaskier had taken no partner because his skirt was still intact, but there was the stink of a challenger to Geralt's claim on him. The beast erupted forth, fangs snapping, ready to overthrow any other suitor and rip their throat out. Geralt strained to keep it at bay, letting out a trembling breath that ended in a snarl as he fought.</p><p>Then the omega trembled, the bells jingled, and Geralt began to lose the fight. He managed to choke out one meager word. "Run."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>The single word in return, so soft and confused, made Geralt growl. He shoved Jaskier back, fighting for breath as he bent his head, which was pounding with the beast that fought to be freed. He prayed that for once in his life, Jaskier would just be obedient, and as Geralt heard the the bells again, he looked up through the disheveled curtain of his hair and shouted, "RUN!"</p><p>The omega took off, stumbling as he did what he'd been told, but it was all for nought. The sight of Geralt's prize running excited the hunter in him, and with a last heave, the beast broke free. Geralt tossed his head back, a feral howl climbing its way from his throat and into the warm summer air, and then he took off after his prey.</p><p>---</p><p>Jaskier fumbled his way through the dark woods, but the earth was not helping any as it kept rolling beneath his feet, which he found quite rude. He tripped over a tree root only to find it was someone's leg; he apologized to the disgruntled pair he had disturbed but couldn't help critiquing the alpha's performance just a bit, giving a few helpful tips only to be snarled away. Well, he was quite used to reading the room and excused himself with an exaggerated bow and a flourish of his hand. He walked a little farther, steps trailing off as he realized he couldn't quite recall what he was doing or where he was going, and then there was a dreadful noise that made his breath hitch. Jaskier swooned at the sound, his head moving slightly as if to let the alpha scent him again.</p><p>The alpha. Jaskier suddenly recalled what he was doing; he looked back to see the figure coming for him, and he licked his lips and smiled. So his suitor wanted to play at a proper chase, did he? The game was on then.</p><p>Jaskier took off through the trees, laughing though he didn't know why, ignoring the pain of scratching branches and bruising rocks underfoot. He could hear his pursuer drawing closer and closer; his heart pounded with anticipation as he veered to the left. His pursuer snarled, wobbling as he tried to correct his course, and Jaskier laughed breathlessly, drunk on the power of being so desired. He zig zagged a few more times before the alpha grew wise to his tactic and anticipated his movements.</p><p>And then he was caught. He gasped as a hand managed to grab his skirt, his feet faltering. He almost regained his balance, but the alpha bore him to the ground. Jaskier laughed again, finally willing to give himself up to the stranger, but first he wanted his prize. His began to right himself on hands and knees, lips parting so he could demand his recompense upfront, but he could only manage a moan.</p><p>The alpha's head had made its way under his skirt, or perhaps the material had simply flipped up during the fall. Whatever the case, Jaskier lifted his ass in surprise as a hot mouth descended on his sex. He gasped and then moaned as the ruthless mouth rubbed against him, the alpha undoubtedly too worked up now to consider the ritual exchanging of the bell, but Jaskier could wait as long as he kept doing that to him. Rough stubble scraped against his nethers, making his fingers clench at the cool grass as the sensation riled him up. A thick tongue slid inside, and Jaskier canted his hips, moaning again, encouraging his suitor. He wiggled his hips tentatively, and upon hearing a deep growl that reverberated through his most sensitive parts, he began rocking against his paramour's mouth. The alpha worked him with the ease of a seasoned veteran--no newcomer to the game was this--and Jaskier felt himself climbing higher and higher until he fell into aching, sweet madness, mouth hanging open.</p><p>He was just barely coming down, ready to give his compliments with a grin on his face when the alpha mounted him, or tried to. There was still the matter of the man's breeches, and Jaskier expected him to undo them with haste, but he seemed to struggling. Jaskier tried to lift up and provide his assistance, but he found himself quickly shoved back down with a vicious rumble. He bristled at the treatment even as his body responded to it. He waited a moment longer as the alpha struggled before huffing; this would require more alacrity. He arched his back and reached beneath himself, fingers brushing the alpha's. The other man jerked and grunted in surprise, but didn't stop Jaskier as he unsnarled the tangle. It took him longer than he would have liked, and if the alpha had been more reasonable he could finish the job in a trice, but there were other charms to taking his time. He ran his fingers over the giant bulge, humming in appreciation; it was delightfully sizeable if the brush of his knuckles proved any good judge. He rubbed them across the straining erection, providing teasing stimulation in the moments before he managed to set his suitor free.</p><p>The breath left Jaskier as the heavy cock slapped down against his ass, now released from its confines. He could finally feel how massive it was as the alpha rutted it against him; it felt thicker than anything he had taken before, and filled him with more than a little trepidation. The alpha growled and panted as he continued to rut gracelessly, his hips apparently possessing opposite talent to that of his amazing mouth. Jaskier drew a breath to steel himself then wiggled and lifted his hips, chasing the elusive beast of a cock.</p><p>The moment the broad head caught on his hole, Jaskier's breath hitched, and then in an instant his whole world fell apart. He felt as if he were a million shards of glass, bursting into the air, twisting and shining, and then he was falling down, down, back into his body. He didn't know how long he'd been crying out, but when he came back to himself his throat was beginning to feel raw. The world was spinning and he clenched his eyes shut to try to stop it. His body was consumed by fire, by desperate need, and at its epicenter was his sex. It pulsed and ached, and Jaskier felt like he might lose his mind with the agonizing clamor for more.</p><p>The alpha was fucking him at top speed, giant cock plowing into Jaskier's softest parts, trying to feed the insatiable need but only succeeding in making it worse. Jaskier whimpered and arched, trying to get the cock to the spot that would fix it all, that would end the terribly hungry pain.</p><p>---</p><p>Geralt had lost his mind. It was agony and ecstasy all jumbled together as he brainlessly rutted, unable to speak as if his vocal cords had been cut. The slavering beast was in control, insatiable hunger driving him to madness while Geralt rolled helpless in countless waves of bliss. Jaskier was tight and hot, gripping his cock like a vise. Geralt had tried to pull back, to keep himself from giving in; Jaskier was in no condition to give real consent, and Geralt himself was completely out of control, worried that he would hurt his companion, but the moment he had smelled him...</p><p>Geralt snarled and licked his lips, tasting the remnants of Jaskier's cum on his skin. It was like an aphrodisiac, its pungent scent enrapturing him, drawing him in once it was barely covered by the skirt. The barest hint of Jaskier's sex peeking from beneath the garish yellow fabric had the beast surging, diving beneath it to taste the victory of having caught the frolicsome omega.</p><p>And how amazing victory did taste on his tongue as he had worked the irksome bard to a shaking orgasm, the beast in him smug at having brought him low. It was worth the irritating hassle of chasing the foolish omega, who traipsed about the woods laughing, making Geralt feel as if he were a simpering idiot mooning after a bawd. It had been no easy feat catching him either. Geralt's equilibrium was off; he had staggered drunkenly through the forest after his prize like a graceless oaf until he could finally bear his potential mate to the ground, mocked all the while by the abrasive sound of bells jangling.</p><p>Now they chimed so sweetly for him as he fucked Jaskier. He had grit his teeth so achingly hard as the omega had undone his breeches; it would have been faster to let him up to do it, but the beast couldn't stand the thought of letting their prize move, needing him right there, his sex on display and ready to be fucked. So he had endured the teasing fingers until he was freed, feeling brief relief before the overwhelmingly intense sense of urgency gripped him again. The beast rutted like a fool, unable to afford Geralt even an ounce of control in its desperation to mate even if it meant it fumbled to find the hole to bury his cock in. It hadn't helped his gnawing hunger when the omega had arched like the most amazing vixen and began wiggling to catch his cock, and when it did...</p><p>Geralt had roared, momentarily merging with the beast inside as they committed the most primal of acts. Jaskier's rump had lifted in surprise at the large invasion, but by then it was too late, both for him and for Geralt. The witcher couldn't stop, not now that the beast had felt what it was to be buried in molten heat. Jaskier was shouting, a long, wordless cry with no seeming end, and Geralt feared it was too much for him, yet the omega made no move to escape. </p><p>The thought of his mate escaping made the beast snarl, hands going to the other man's hips and gripping hard. Jaskier's cry died off, replaced by whimpering gasps and moans as Geralt fucked him, his hips canting up even harder; Geralt didn't know how he could comfortably arch so hard, but the sight of it pleased him, made him feel smug that the bard would offer himself up so wantonly. It was then that the skirt slipped just that much higher up Jaskier's back and the witcher saw them: two perfect dimples to either side of the other man's spine, just above the curve of his ass. His pace momentarily faltered as he stared. How had he not noticed them before? Perhaps because he was always trying to maintain modesty by not ogling Jaskier when he attempted to flirt with him before. Now Geralt regretted every moment he had ever possibly passed up to stare at the little divots.</p><p>Why just stare? The beast in him guided his hands to slide up, his thumbs to spread and dip into the little hollows as it purred for him to take what was his, rightfully caught beneath the solstice moon and so willing to be plundered. Jaskier mewled, wiggling in an entreaty to get his mate to move. Geralt and the beast growled, moving in sync to pull the bard's hips back hard against him, and in that moment Geralt truly gave in, letting go and fusing with the beast. He bared his teeth with a growl and his hips surged into motion again.</p><p>Jaskier was feeling a bit piqued beneath the torturous haze of the artificial heat when the alpha had paused, but the moment his lover started back up, all was forgiven. There was more finesse in the thrusts now--albeit they were still hard and fast--and the alpha's hands were working Jaskier's hips along with them. Jaskier whimpered as thumbs caressed his dimples, arching into the touch. It was sensitive there, and the alpha's skin was callused and rough enough that Jaskier could easily slip into his fantasy of Geralt fucking him. The stranger even grunted much like the witcher. Jaskier was clenching around the thick invader, body trying to milk it, desperate for relief. He panted against the ground, whining and groaning; part of him mused that he had never felt a dose of aphrodisiac quite so potently before, the other part just a begging weak thing hungry for cock.</p><p>He couldn't ask for more; he was soaking wet as he got the fuck of his life, or at least of this year of his life. The broad, blunt head plowing inside him was grazing and fleetingly rubbing against the sweet spot, building his pleasure higher and higher into an aching inferno. It was painful and glorious, but he needed it, needed that blissful release just out of reach. He tried to touch himself, tip himself over the edge, but the alpha growled and jostled him. Jaskier let out a pitiful, shivering moan. "Please!" He expelled the simple word with all the strength and desperation he had in him.</p><p>Geralt's chest heaved as the word rattled around in his head louder than the bells ever could. He bared his teeth as a guttural grunt pushed out of him, and he rose up on his haunches, practically mounting Jaskier's ass. The omega jerked in surprise, and Geralt reflexively bore down on the omega's hips, keeping him in place. He fucked down into Jaskier, the angle pushing his cock harder against the deepest parts of his lover.</p><p>He could feel the moment Jaskier began to come. The ripple of muscle as it contracted around him, spasming without stopping, almost made Geralt lose it right there. Jaskier was moaning without pause as Geralt continued fucking him. It went on and on and simply didn't stop. Soon Jaskier was keening like a dying animal, clawing at the ground, heaving and shuddering, and Geralt couldn't help but keep fucking him in fascination. Muscles still spasmed around him nonstop while cum and slick coated his balls, which swung with heavy slaps against the omega's small cock. Geralt growled as he fought off his own orgasm, wanting the sweet pleasure to last a little longer.</p><p>There was only so long he could hold out, however, and soon his balls were drawing up tight. His knot was growing rapidly, and there was no time to waste. Even as willing and pliable as he was, the fit was tight in Jaskier. Geralt grunted as he shoved, trying to grind the hard flesh of his knot into his lover, his attempts serenaded by lewd, wet squishing sounds and the harsh jingle of the bells as Jaskier jerked and twitched. Geralt snarled in frustration and then echoed Jaskier's shout as he managed to get some of his knot inside. It was getting too big, however, and Jaskier's body was already beginning to push him out as it tightened in expectation of closing over the intruder. Geralt had one last chance to successfully tie. In desperation, he swung his leg over Jaskier's ass, crouching over him as he bore down.</p><p>Their voices rose together in the night as Geralt's knot lodged inside, held fast by tightening muscles and with little time to spare. Geralt began to come. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, which fell back as the ecstasy ate at what little sanity he had left. Jaskier was clamped around him, throttling his cock and knot, demanding everything Geralt had to offer and more. The witcher grimaced, bearing his teeth as pleasure was edged with pain at the intensity of his orgasm; it had been ages since he had knotted someone, and that only added fuel to the raging fire. Jaskier was making short, high whimpers, his hips trying to wiggle beneath the witcher's weight, and as the hard edge of desperate need wore off, Geralt finally looked at his companion. </p><p>Jaskier, with his cheek pressed to the ground, his lips parted and brow furrowed, was a vision of lust and beauty. Geralt grunted as his cock jumped at the sight, and Jaskier whimpered in turn as he felt it. The bard was always expressive, but seeing him so thoroughly taken away by the raw power of their coupling did things to Geralt. He had tried to avoid this for so long, tried to maintain his distance, his neutrality, to keep his friend safe, but Jaskier was right in the end: he could never stay neutral. As his seed left him, flowing into the omega who so willingly took it, he wanted nothing more than to give in and kiss him.</p><p>The moment passed, or rather he buried the urge as his legs reminded him he couldn't stay crouching forever; the muscles burned and ached from the awkward position, and Geralt opted to go the old fashioned route. With care, he swung completely around until he was on hands and knees, ass to ass with his lover, intent on waiting out the coupling more comfortably.</p><p>The move didn't go unnoticed by Jaskier, who was just barely beginning to grasp the edges of lucidity after the most intense orgasm of his life. He marveled at it, brain barely able to handle what he just went through when he was jostled. He sucked in a breath as the knot turned inside him with the alpha's movement, a knot like no other. It was massive, and he had both feared it tying and not tying him at the same time, but once it had, Jaskier didn't regret it for a moment. It was painful, yes, but it pressed every button, rubbed every aching, needy inch inside him. The alpha's cock wasn't idle either, practically bouncing inside him as the other man came, Jaskier noticed with smug satisfaction.</p><p>His only regret was that it wasn't Geralt tied to him. Even if it was just a bit of solstice foolery, Jaskier would have liked that, but the stubborn mule of a witcher wasn't here despite his flirtations. Jaskier shooed away the melancholy thoughts as they tried to plague him and turned toward milking every ounce of pleasure he could from the encounter; no sense letting a good knotting go to waste. He began with the slow rock of his hips, his ass pressing against the alpha's, hair and skin rubbing sensually together.</p><p>The alpha grunted. "You're not going to get off that knot any time soon," he warned.</p><p>The gravelly voice sent a delicious thrill down Jaskier's spine; it was easy to imagine it was Geralt admonishing him. "I didn't plan on it," Jaskier said as he rolled his hips. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride." Without further ado, Jaskier pulled forward, just a bit, and made a pleased sound at the grunt of surprise from his partner. The knot pressed at him, not unpleasant, and Jaskier pulled forward a little more, hips trying to venture farther and farther. The knot held fast, and now that Jaskier knew it was a secure tie, he began his tease.</p><p>Knot tugging was his specialty, treading that line where the tie stayed but flirting with it popping free. This one was so massive that it gave him more free reign to tug as he pleased, sure there was no way he could pull off by accident. He kept his chest on the ground as he rocked forward, straining against the giant bulge lodged in him, gratified by the groan behind him. He worked his hips back and forth a few times, emulating riding a cock before he pressed forward again, straining against the knot. His muscles acted on instinct, rippling and spasming, contracting around their prize as they felt it trying to escape. Jaskier moaned in delight as his partner breathed heavily. He jerked his hips forward in several sharp motions, feeling his body fight to keep hold even though it didn't have to; he was well and truly stuck.</p><p>Soon he found his rhythm, rolling his hips a few times, grinding the knot against the best sensitive places, then surging forward, tugging as if he would break free. He felt almost bruised after a time as the bulbous flesh in him was forced to batter at his hole, but he couldn't stop himself even with the aching pain. It certainly didn't make him want to stop when he felt big, blunt fingers questing along his sex, prodding at the swollen bulge barely contained within before sliding down to rub his small cock. Jaskier moaned, working himself harder, the comfort of the alpha not even a blip on his mind as he fought for his orgasm. The other man didn't seem to mind, fingers working steadily, and then it hit Jaskier like a tidal wave, and he gratefully let it drown him with open arms.</p><p>Geralt's breathing was ragged. He had never experienced anything like that in his life. The little minx tied to him always had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, but this... The constant squeezing and pressing against his knot left him aching to fuck again, as if he weren't even buried to the hilt (and then some thanks to Jaskier's bucking). He tried to distract himself by tending to the omega's needs, fingers drenched in slick, unable to stop from curiously pressing against where his cock was sheathed before palming Jaskier's penis. There was satisfaction in rubbing it, stimulating his partner even as the omega tugged and yanked at him almost painfully, but he would endure it if just to hear one more moan. Even so, Geralt breathed a sigh of relief as his beleaguered cock knew a brief moment of peace when Jaskier came, muscles squeezing in a rhythmic pace. A trickle of fresh slick made its way over the witcher's fingers, having somehow escaped the overstuffed hole, and Geralt had just lifted them to his lips for a taste when he heard it.</p><p>"Geralt."</p><p>He had finally been under control until that. One soft, shivering sigh, one word spoken in a raw voice and the witcher was undone all over again. The need to mate surged, blinding him to anything else, and the fresh taste of Jaskier on his tongue only made it worse. Jaskier lazily murmured something, clearly lost in post-coital bliss, unaware what was about to happen.</p><p>Geralt heaved. Thankfully Jaskier's body had relaxed its stranglehold on him. Geralt didn't want to hurt him, but he couldn't stop himself as he surged forward. There was a shout of surprise and pain, and Geralt yanked again as he brought a foot up to push against the back of Jaskier's leg at the same time. He came free suddenly with a wet gush, his knot simultaneously glad to not be restricted any more and yet begging to be squeezed within an inch of its life again. Geralt took a moment to gather himself, shuddering and breath heaving. When he turned, his keen vision allowed him the sight of his friend on his back, legs splayed open and skirt bunched about his hips. He knew he was lost. How he could turn back from this?</p><p>Jaskier had been having a fine time, a great time indeed, until the horse's ass of an alpha had seen fit to actually yank himself free, and in the most graceless and rude manner, Jaskier might add. He grit his teeth at the slight stinging pain between his legs where the knot had been torn out without a care for his delicate parts. Despite it, his body still yearned and craved. Still, he wouldn't let the other man get away with it so easily, and he was ready to give the bastard a piece of his mind when he looked up and lost his breath. He could barely make out the vague shape of a face in the deep dark of the woods, but the eyes, oh, the eyes. They burned like golden flames, and they were fixed on him.</p><p>Jaskier let out a little incredulous laugh that died weakly. The hallucinations were at hand here, he told himself, the same ones that were trying to replace this nameless alpha with Geralt. Of course that must be it. Still, it was an unsettling sight, and even more so as the other man descended on him.</p><p>Now that they were face to face, Jaskier could see the magnificent thing that had been inside him moments before, and he could almost let his disgruntled feelings go. It bobbed and swayed as the alpha advanced, crouching down over Jaskier. The bard reached out to touch, moaning as his hand slipped down to curl around the head. The alpha groaned, and Jaskier smirked as he gripped tightly and began to jack the alpha off, nimble fingers teasing and pressing until he found the best spots. He would give the other man points for stamina, that was for sure; his partner seemed as willing and ready as if they hadn't just fucked. Jaskier's body clenched in anticipation at the vivid recollection of what had just been done to him, causing a small river of cum and slick to gush from his hole with a few lewd squelches.</p><p>The alpha dragged in a deep, ragged breath and then stared down at Jaskier. Gods, those eyes. They shone so brightly, shimmering like an oasis in the desert. Jaskier spared a worry for his sanity, but it flew from him the moment the alpha ducked his head and pressed his face against Jaskier's neck. Hot breath flooded over his skin, and the bard moaned as the alpha rutted into his hand, growling against his ear. Jaskier's mouth fell open at the feeling of stubble traveling over his skin, and his legs opened wider of their own accord as the alpha nuzzled against him with vigor, using lips and tongue. His eyes rolled back as the alpha reached the scent gland beneath his jaw, breathing in deeply again before growling deep enough to rattle Jaskier's bones. The cock in his hand slid through his fingers with several questing thrusts, the alpha hunching to find his wet heat again. Jaskier licked his lips, trying to steady his voice as he flippantly said, "Let's put that back to use, shall we?"</p><p>But the alpha made no move at the invitation, apparently only interested in Jaskier's scent gland now, nuzzling so hard he had Jaskier's head thrown back and practically pinned to the ground. While it felt fabulous to have a hot tongue stroke and rub the little nodule beneath his skin, Jaskier wanted more. He tried his best to move under the weight of the massive alpha, canting his hips and curling his torso, trying to inch closer. The first brush of the cock against his own made him moan, and it seemed to encourage the alpha to participate a little more. He began rutting with more intensity, though he still didn't leave Jaskier's neck. The bard strained and managed to get the cock to prod farther down, closer to his hole; it was an aching tease as the cock slipped and slid through the wet mess between Jaskier's legs. He felt he might go mad if it went on a moment more, and then it prodded at his hole, once, twice, and then the alpha surged forward, having sensed he'd found the spot.</p><p>Jaskier fell apart again. He clung to his lover as fire burst through his veins. Teeth were raking his oversensitive scent gland, the alpha grunting as he fucked. It was pain, and it was pleasure, and then it was pain again, over and over in a never-ending loop. Jaskier had never felt so desperate to come, but between the press of their bodies and the jackrabbit pounding, he couldn't get to his cock. The one in him was doing its best to drive him mad, hammering into his tight heat. Jaskier whimpered as he clung to the alpha.</p><p>Geralt slowed as he heard, barely able to do even that though he worried he had hurt his friend. His cock throbbed and he became aware he was drooling all over Jaskier's neck like a dumb beast. He couldn't help himself; the omega smelled amazing and Geralt had held himself back for too long. He exhaled against the bard's neck, face pressing hard against sweaty skin. It hurt. It hurt to fuck; it hurt not to fuck. And it hurt to take Jaskier like this, in an addled, defenseless state, no better than an animal. The omega clung to him, whining like a desperate, needy thing, and it didn't help Geralt's drive to take.</p><p>"Please."</p><p>Geralt tensed at the trembling word. He dragged his lips over Jaskier's gland--he couldn't get enough of it--before he continued thrusting. Geralt nuzzled, teeth scraping and tongue lapping up sweat across soft skin. He was going mad, and he wasn't sure whether it was Jaskier or the witch's cursed summerwine that made him this way. He resumed fucking Jaskier with a singular purpose, as if he could release them both.</p><p>The knot came too fast, so fast that he wasn't ready; he was as surprised by it as if he were a stripling boy experiencing it for the first time. Jaskier gasped as the knot bumped him, hips writhing to accept it, but it wasn't enough; it was too big. Every hump of the omega's hips against Geralt was driving him crazy as he tried to make it fit. He was ready to give up as his orgasm came on fast, but Jaskier's legs wrapped around his own as he mewled the word again, a pleading cry.</p><p>"Fuck," Geralt rasped, the first word he'd been able to manage in a while. He arched, hips shoving forward in another attempt, and another and another. It seemed impossible, but Jaskier was tearing at him now, yowling for him to knot, and Geralt did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed hold of the omega and yanked him up, rocking them back so Jaskier was settled on his lap, then grasped Jaskier's hips and pulled them down; the omega moaned and then keened, nails raking Geralt's skin; he begged Geralt to continue, then demanded he stop, then sobbed for him to keep going. Geralt grit his teeth at the contradicting commands and despite Jaskier's prattling, he set himself to the task. The omega bit and scratched and shouted, but Geralt didn't stop until the knot popped in. He barely caught Jaskier as his friend arched so hard he almost fell over.</p><p>Geralt snarled as he was taken in again, wet heat contracting around him, threatening to throttle his sanity. It took what strength and wits he had left about him to hang onto Jaskier; the bard was shaking and thrashing and trying to roll his hips. They weren't moans coming from his mouth, but ragged sounds of raw need that perfectly encompassed how Geralt felt at the moment. His cock felt like it was going to burst as he kept coming and coming, each shot more painful and pleasurable than the last. He was falling in the abyss, not knowing which way was up until broad hands seized his face and pulled him into a vicious kiss so hard he could feel the other man's teeth. </p><p>Jaskier moaned desperately into the kiss. He ached and ached, the crushing need between his hips not letting up in the slightest. He had never felt this way before; usually after a nice good knotting the fire died down to a manageable spark, but now it was an inferno and Jaskier had no idea how to put it out. The kiss was as much desire as it was the need for comfort, and the alpha didn't seem to mind, tongue and teeth coming out to play. Jaskier burrowed his hands into coarse hair, clinging to the one anchor he had, hips rocking frantically as he rode wave after wave of orgasm. His body was clenched tight, not seeming interested in the slightest at releasing its prize, and Jaskier swore he could feel every vein of his lover's cock.</p><p>He opened his eyes as he suddenly broke away from the alpha, dragging in rough breaths. He was drowning, barely holding on, and then the alpha's eyes opened and he was met with the golden gaze. Jaskier expelled a sound that was part laughter, part sob. "Geralt, I love you."</p><p>The alpha startled and Jaskier laughed like a drunkard a few tankards over his limit as he lifted a hand to cover the lower half of his lover's face. "I know it's not really you; just let me speak." He swayed and whimpered, fingers digging into the alpha's flesh as the cock inside him flexed, pressing against every tender inch within. It was his turn to press his face against the other man's neck, breathing in ragged gasps. "I've loved you ever since you saved my life. I mean, I loved the idea of you when I first met you, what you could mean for my career, but I fell in love with you somehow, despite your foolish selflessness. I've loved you even though you try to push me away. I know that you know that I love you, you complete ass, even though you pretend you don't." Jaskier let out another shuddering breath, startling as he realized he had been crying, hot tears rolling over his skin. "I love you," he said. Then he said it again and again and again, a mantra he could stop no more than he could stop the awful ache between his hips.</p><p>Only the alpha's lips on his silenced him, cool and firm, mashing against his without finesse. Jaskier clung to him with all his strength. The alpha bore them to the ground, pressing Jaskier down as his hips shoved slow and hard, trying desperately to drive deeper. The bard cried out, arching into it; he closed his eyes and allowed himself to believe it really was Geralt on top of him, Geralt in him, Geralt giving him his seed. His lover was obviously feeling it too, hands pressing Jaskier's hips toward his own, lips dragging over his skin as he let out a long, gravelly roar. Jaskier felt another crazed laugh bubble up, unable to stop it until rough lips on his silenced him.</p><p>They rocked together like that, pain and pleasure ebbing and flowing between their bodies, driving each other into the depths of madness and ecstasy over and over on that warm solstice night.</p><p>---</p><p>Jaskier woke with a start, then groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple. Summerwine was all well and good till you woke with the splitting hangover and the sickly sweet taste clinging to the back of your tongue. Some time in the night's festivities he had been alleviated of his skirt, but he couldn't be bothered to deal with finding it yet, which was a fiest for himas it was very expensive and Jaskier did not take his clothes lightly. He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the growing light of day, and hissed at the bruised feeling between his legs. Well, at least he'd gotten some use last night. He chuckled a little to himself; he hadn't seen a night like that in years, and if he hadn't been able to enjoy multiple partners this time around, the alpha he had bedded had been a fair companion the whole night through.</p><p>Jaskier smirked as he heard the grass rustle and then felt someone trying to crawl between his legs. "I'm ready for my recompense now," he said airily. "One must not forget about tradition, you know." Even so, Jaskier spread his legs to accommodate, making sure his plethora of bells chimed as an extra reminder to the alpha.</p><p>"You have plenty already."</p><p>Jaskier's mouth flew open in surprise at the deep, familiar rasp, fully intending some sort of scathing rebuttal when a hot tongue touched his sex, sliding over his skin. "Geralt!" Jaskier gasped. He bucked, but the tongue followed no matter how he tried to squirm away. "Geralt, stop!" Jaskier tried to sound as commanding as possible, but his voice cracked.</p><p>The witcher finally looked up at him, the lower half of his face hidden by Jaskier's own body, and the bard felt like a deer caught in a hunting wolf's gaze. "What are you doing?" he managed to choke out.</p><p>"What do you think?" Geralt said. His warm breath on Jaskier's sex made the omega shiver. Geralt cocked a brow as he ducked his head, attempting to resume his ministrations. </p><p>Jaskier grasped his hair, earning himself a glare. The golden eyes stole his breath for a moment before he manage to stutter out, "That you've gone mad! Or I have." Jaskier let out a little incredulous laugh. "I must still be hallucinating. I'm still hallucinating, aren't I?"</p><p>"Jaskier." Geralt growled the word, clearly exasperated as he raised his torso up on his forearms. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>"Last night, I... I wasn't myself." Jaskier licked his lips as Geralt stared at him, brow furrowed. "Where is the man I was with last night? Did you scare him off, Geralt?" Jaskier tried to make the joke but it fell flat under those blazing eyes.</p><p>The witcher glared at him, brow furrowed. "You don't remember?"</p><p>"Remember what, Geralt? The amazing time I had last night? Or your absence from it?" He cursed himself as a fool when Geralt growled at him, but he didn't stand down or try to take back his words. In fact, he was feeling mightily petty this post-solstice morning as he spoke again before Geralt could. "How was your night of keeping the peace, by the by? Mine was filled with debauchery, as it should be. I should have even enjoyed a morning romp but you've scared away the chance I have of that, come to apparently eat the scraps of another man. And that's another thing--"</p><p>"Jaskier!" The witcher snarled, quelling his friend's rant. "I was with you last night."</p><p>Jaskier gave him a dubious look, hesitating before he slowly said, "Yes, in the city, up until you decided not to follow me." The sting of rejection was still fresh, and Jaskier wasn't about to let it go any time soon.</p><p>Geralt's jaw clenched. His eyes darted to the side almost as if he were embarrassed before they trained back on the bard. "No, Jaskier. I was the one who caught you last night."</p><p>Jaskier stared at him and then laughed. "Oh, that's rich, Geralt. A witcher in the running."</p><p>Geralt growled. "I'm being serious, Jaskier." The bard rolled his eyes until the witcher rose up higher, his medallion sliding from his shirt, swinging on its chain until it bumped against Jaskier's sensitive sex. He gasped and Geralt rumbled, shifting so it slid over where he thought the fires of heat had been quenched, but instead had merely been banked for the night. "Shall I prove it to you?"</p><p>Geralt moved up between Jaskier's legs, their eyes locked, gold on blue. The witcher could smell his friend's sweat and their mixed fluids, could hear the thrumming pace of the bard's heart. He needed only one word to release him.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>In an instant, his lips were on Jaskier's, hard and unforgiving that the fool could so easily forget him when Geralt couldn't seem to get his meddlesome friens out of his mind. He dominated Jaskier's mouth, taking and plundering all that he could until he finally allowed Jaskier to come up for air.</p><p>"I don't understand. What happened?" Jaskier asked, voice trembling with need. His hips were already questing for the alpha, his arms slung around the witcher's neck as he held on under the rough assault to his lips and neck.</p><p>"It was the summerwine. Yennefer put a spell on it," Geralt said between kisses.</p><p>"A spell on it?" Jaskier pulled away, gawking. "She poisoned it, more like! I'll--"</p><p>"Jaskier!" Geralt snapped and the bard stilled. "Shut up."</p><p>Not about to obey such a rude command, Jaskier opened his mouth, but only managed a moan as Geralt's cock slid over his wet sex. The alpha humped with surety, teasing him. "Don't think I'll let you forget your confession to me last night either." Jaskier sputtered unintelligiblly as he clung to Geralt harder, attention torn between the massive beast of a cock come knocking and the ephemeral memories of his babbled omission of love sifting their way to the surface of his consciousness. Done with his tease, Geralt aimed to prove his sincerity, hips hunching as he thrust into his lover.</p><p>Jaskier arched as Geralt's cock sank into him and it all clicked: the weight of it now so familiar, the way it touched the places that felt bruised inside, the undeniable, unforgettable stretch. He remembered now, remembered all his words spilling from him i in the night, secrets pouring from him like water from a broken dam, sent to drown all who were in its path. Jaskier keened, head falling back, and Geralt took advantage, practically gnawing at his scent gland. He was fucked hard and fast, Geralt's hands keeping his hips at the perfect angle. They were achieving bliss together once more under their newfound glory.</p><p>"Very nice."</p><p>Geralt's head shot up with a snarl of warning for the interloper who was perched daintily on a nearby boulder, rearranging her skirts. "Yennefer," he rumbled with displeasure. His hips slowed.</p><p>Jaskier's head shot up, a dark look taking over his face, his brow furrowing. "Witch," he hissed.</p><p>"Sorceress," she corrected. Her jaw jutted out haughtily as she asked, "Did you enjoy yourself last night, bard? You've me to thank for it, you know." She smirked as he scowled at her, clearly revving up for a scathing remark when he suddenly bucked, a desperate sound coming from his throat.</p><p>Geralt held him fast as Jaskier mewled as if he were in pain, clutching at him insensibly. "What did you do?" he demanded.</p><p>"A little hair of the dog. He should be ecstatic, I should think. With all the years he's been mooning over you, he'd be in his grave before taking you to bed at this rate." Geralt snarled at her as he tried to contain the currently writhing omega. "Don't stop on my account, witcher," Yennefer purred. Geralt glared but continued for Jaskier's sake; the omega was soaking wet now, slack-jawed and drooling, whatever magic that had dosed the summerwine clearly having dug its claws into him again. Geralt grunted as muscles squeezed him tightly, urging him to fuck faster.</p><p>"What do you want?" Geralt grunted as he noticed she hadn't taken her leave, his hips pistoning with brute force as Jaskier arched, making sharp, desperate noises of pleasure.</p><p>"The mayor is quite angry with you," Yennefer said from her perch. "Seems they could have used a witcher to break up all the fights last night, especially when said witcher was already bought and paid for."</p><p>Geralt's jaw clenched as Jaskier's nails dug into his back, the legs wrapped around his buttocks doing more to hinder than help his thrusts. "And whose fault was that?"</p><p>"I admit I might have overdone it a bit." Yennefer pushed her hair back over her shoulder and gave him a smug look. "I don't see you complaining." Her tongue playfully touched her top lip as she watched Geralt's powerful muscles rippling as he fucked Jaskier. The witcher grunted as the bard nuzzled at his throat, tongue rasping over his stubble.</p><p>"Tell them I was busy," Geralt rasped. Jaskier's teeth dug into his throat, clamping down hard. "Fuck!"</p><p>"I won't be going back," she said loftily as she tugged on an expensive pair of velvet gloves. "Turns out the mayor isn't pleased with how the summerwine turned out. Something about its side effects." Yennefer eyed him with a smirk. "Seems even a mighty witcher can be laid low by a healthy dosing of aphrodisiac." She shrugged as Geralt shot her a look out of the corner of his eyes. "I'll be making myself scarce. Perhaps you should too." Jaskier was arching hard now, bucking in a frenzy as he felt the beginnings of his lover's knot. Yennefer clucked her tongue with a pouty frown as she stood and spun a portal from her magic. "Take care of him, Geralt, please. Poor thing's desperate." Then she was gone.</p><p>The witcher rolled his eyes, and knowing he had to strike fast, he yanked Jaskier onto his lap and down onto his knot. The omega's limbs clung to him as hard as his inner walls clung to Geralt's cock. Jaskier ground down hard on him, and the witcher grunted as his knot was treated to an impressive massage. Jaskier was whining nonstop, and Geralt knew the sweet torture he was feeling, if not from the magic then from the spiked summerwine. He pulled the omega into a kiss, let the other man take the lead as he feasted with teeth and tongue, suckling and mewling. Geralt occasionally rocked his hips up, hands trailing over Jaskier's back, his thighs and buttocks; he felt the softness of his hair, taking his time now that he was lucid and could enjoy it to its fullest extent. There wasn't much left in him to give, his balls wrung dry the night before, but even so his knot didn't seem to want to retreat any time soon. He waited as patiently a he could, Jaskier seeming to wind down after a time, panting and snuggling into the crook of the witcher's neck. Geralt rumbled a deep purr of satisfaction at that, content to rest for a while. </p><p>Yet the while came and went and still his body seemed to show no signs of letting up. Jaskier was dozing against his shoulder now, and Geralt rolled his eyes that the bard could fall asleep at a time like this. Still, the little minx had a long night. Geralt smiled in satisfaction at that as he placed his hands under Jaskier's ass and hoisted him up. The omega moaned and clung to him. "Geralt, what are you doing?"</p><p>"Taking you back to town." He began walking, but it was going to be slow going with Jaskier's pelvis practically glued to his. The omega whined, beginning his infernal tugging. Geralt stumbled, eyes closing and jaw clenching as he tried to gather himself. Jaskier was hunching away from him, tugging his knot and doing his best to truly drive him insane. Geralt tried to remain focused, but the omega seemed intent on clawing his way up his body. Geralt couldn't resist as Jaskier arched higher, bare throat in front of him; his mouth clamped down around it, exalting in the vibration of Jaskier's moans and the way his throat bobbed beneath his teeth. Still, the omega fought the hold, legs restlessly clamping around Geralt's body as he tried to gain purchase.</p><p>The jangling of the bells, almost as if they were a taunt now, made Geralt snarl. His hand fumbled for the wretched jewelry tied about Jaskier's ankle, and with one vicious yank he tore it free. Bells clinked a chaotic tune as they tumbled free from their lacings to fall to the ground below. Jaskier cried out but Geralt had already slung his arm back and then whipped it forward, launching what was left in an arc of tinkling furor.</p><p>"Geralt, how could you!" Jaskier exclaimed, his face relating his dismay. "I've spent years gathering those!" </p><p>Geralt crushed Jaskier's swollen lips with his own, giving a nip to silence more whimpering foolishness. "I'll get you a new one," he rasped. Jaskier's blue eyes went wide, and then a particularly smug look overtook his face. He nuzzled into Geralt's neck as if he'd never thrown a fit while the witcher resumed his laborious trudge back to town, beleaguered by his new acquisition whom went on and on about what type of bell he deserved, but Geralt already knew what kind of bell he would get his little minx.</p><p>It would be iron, Geralt thought, or perhaps silver. Simple and clean. With a wolf insignia, to be sure, and of course there would be one last thing, the most important thing.</p><p>Geralt would make sure that it was the last bell Jaskier ever received.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, find me as keirafterdark on twitter.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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